Take Your Time
by snowbunnie13
Summary: It almost irked her that someone else was acting dependent on Soul…almost.


"Soul. I have some sad news. Your brother…Wes…he's dead." His mother's words echoed even after their conversation was over. It had been a car accident—he was on his way home from a concert. The mother tried to appear calm but couldn't help but burst into tears at the end. "Can you make it to the funeral? He…he would have wanted you there."

"I will come."

"Thank you, Soul!"

Soul couldn't stand her tears, so he kept the conversation short. Either way, he wasn't the most talkative of people, so in his mind he wasn't being rude.

"Are we doing anything this Saturday?" he asked Maka, betraying no emotion. He wanted to keep her out of this; it was a family matter and she would probably get all upset and Soul didn't feel like dealing with that right now, not when he was feeling so conflicted himself.

"Yeah, we have a mission! Didn't you remember?" She looked up happily from the kitchen, where she was cooking breakfast. It was technically Soul's turn, but she wasn't in the mood for frozen waffles, and, well, neither was he.

"Cancel it."

"What? Why?"

"I have somewhere I need to be."

"Where?" Maka asked, honestly curious. Soul was afraid of this. "Tell me! I'm your partner, remember?"

He gave her the most desperate, pleading look that he could muster from his face. "I know. But I _really _don't want to talk about it. Just this once, please promise you'll drop it. Just this once. Please." Soul hoped adding the 'magic word' please, would help his cause.

Damn. This was beginning to turn into another argument. "No; I won't drop it! Soul, don't you trust me?"

"I do, but—"

"Then why not?"

"You won't understand." Wrong word choice, he quickly realized.

"I'd understand if you'd just tell me! What's so important that you want to cancel our mission? We promised Shinigami we'd go!"

"I'm sure he'll understand. He can send another team."

"Oh, so _he'll _understand, but not me, your meister? Just freaking tell me what's going on!"

"I CAN'T." He nearly yelled, and stomped back to his room, slamming the door before he made the argument worse. Soul packed his backpack for the day, slipping inside a photo and letter to look at during lunch if he still felt bad.

She wouldn't understand. She didn't have a brother. It was one thing to lose a parent, but something completely different to lose a sibling. The photo he found was his family picture—mother and two sons standing together smiling. His father had died when he was very young. He had a few vague memories, but for as long as he could remember, it was mom, Wes, and him.

He gazed at his brother's picture and couldn't imagine him dead. He looked so _alive _in this picture. They looked exactly alike, the two boys, with the same white hair and red eyes that, as his mother would say, looked just like their father's. But to think, he had been watching that concert live on his computer! Soul felt guilty for not being there. If he was, he'd have stopped that car using his scythe blade—

It was uncool.

...

"Soul, drive FASTER! We're going to be late!" Maka shouted over his shoulder. Normally he'd oblige, but hearing that his brother had been killed in a _traffic accident_ spooked him. Was he superstitious? Maybe. The least he could say was that he was annoyed at Maka's yelling.

The bell rang as they pulled up and parked.

"_Great job, _Soul, now we're late! If you had just _told me what was bothering you _we wouldn't be in this mess!" Maka yelled.

"We're here, aren't we?" Soul commented dryly. Denial of something bothering him almost came to his tongue, but of course there was something bothering him. This wasn't some stupid black blood dream. This was real. And cool guys didn't lie…Wes never lied…

Well, there were those times where he'd say, "Soul, your shoe's untied!" just to get him to look, but that was just for a good laugh. He sighed. Better not think about that right now. If he didn't hurry up he was a step away from a Maka-Chop, and Wes thought getting beat up by a girl wasn't cool.

They'd had a conversation about chops over their letters, which Soul would send only when something had happened. He didn't talk just for the sake of talking. "I tried dodging them but it doesn't help. Besides, it's fun to tease her."

"Think she'd fall for any of my tricks?"

"She's smarter than I am."

"That's not hard."

Soul had told his brother a lot about Maka, but surprisingly not so much of his other friends. Black*Star, maybe, but that was mainly when describing their epic exploits. It was about the adventure, not him personally, except for, "Star is one-sided, really, but it's not the same side for everyone. He shows everyone a different side of him."

"Interesting. You should tell them about me! Put in a good word when you do!"

It wasn't that he purposely didn't tell them about his family. Maybe that's why he liked them so much. They didn't push or pressure him. Maka, he knew, was deathly curious, but she did respect him, and he thanked her for it.

Soul took a peek in his notebook where he'd stashed his photo at the last moment. Thankfully, his meister took it as a gesture of paying attention to the lecture, so she didn't comment.

When the lunch bell rang, though, he dashed outside to find a quiet, Maka-free place. She'd find him eventually—she knew this place almost as well as he did—but if he could have a moment to reread his last letter he'd feel better. Maka knew the building because she'd grown up here, but Soul knew all the hiding places.

"Soul, I know you _always _say no and I know there's evil to fight, but that makes me want to ask you again: will you come home for Christmas? Mom wants to see how tall you are. Not that it's hard to be tall against Mom! Don't let her know I said that. Your gifts came early, by the way. I _wonder _what mine is. C'mon, Soul, I know it's a movie. It's _always _a movie. Being unoriginal isn't cool, Soul! Put that on your list. Anyway, I've got to go make some sweet, sweet love with Victoria in front of thousands of adoring fans! You go stand in the blood of your defeated enemies with your _girlfriend. _Tell me, does that count as talking dirty? Hehehe. Love you too, little bro."

Victoria was his name for his violin. Soul thought it was stupid yet somehow incredibly brilliant at the same time. Wes tried to get Soul to name his piano, but he never got around to it.

Noises. The scythe stuffed the letter back in his pocket.

"Who's hooking up with Victoria?" Black*Star was in the tree. He jumped down with a smack.

"How much did you read?" Soul nearly gasped.

"Just that part. So who is it? She sounds hot."

Soul could have keeled over laughing. But instead he sighed of relief. Black*Star didn't know who the letters were by.

"So is she hot?"

"Nope."

The scythe was once again thankful of Black*Star's one-sided-ness. If she wasn't hot, he didn't care, and wouldn't ask any more questions.

"Oh yeah, Maka's looking for you. Can't tell if she's pissed or worried. What'd ya do?"

"Made her late for school." He said honestly. Again, cool guys didn't lie. There was nothing against telling only parts of the truth though. "Better go then."

…

He supposed this class was OK since Maka didn't talk to him at all. Disappearing at lunch was another pet peeve of hers.

Thankfully, the class after that was Weapon's class, and it was at the end of the day this term, so as soon as the bell rang he pushed his way to the nearest mirror to cancel their mission. Unfortunately, Deathscythe was the one who answered.

"Oh, it's you. Where's my darling little angel? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BABY? Oh, I knew one day you'd finally snap!"

"I don't need your shit right now, old man! She's fine." The boy growled. "I need to talk to Shinigami. It's important."

Spirit, perturbed, passed the mirror to the boss. "Why, hello Soul! Wassup~? I heard you have something important to tell me!"

"Sir," he regained his composure and cool. "We can't go on the mission. I have a…family emergency. Please send somebody else."

"This is for Wesley, right?" the god said quietly.

"How—"

"I am the god of death." Shinigami reminded him.

"Right…"

"Soul, don't look so glum. I know it's a shock, losing a loved one, but you must remember that one day, every living thing must die. So take your time." He advised solemnly.

"Yes, sir."

Shinigami was concerned about the scythe's change in behavior. Normally he wouldn't be so polite…actually, he never called; he always got Maka to do it for him. "I'll buy your plane tickets, OK?" he offered. "I'll get one for you and one for Maka!"

"Thanks, sir, but I wasn't planning for her to come—"

"Nonsense! Besides, she's going to follow you anyway, y'know? Maka cares a lot about you! We _all _do, _right, Spirit?" _Soul could hear a faint grumbling that he red-headed Deathscythe did worry about him sometimes.

Before he hung up, Soul asked, "I know you're not supposed to tell me, but…is Wes in a good place?"

After a pause, Shinigami said wisely, "I bet he's watching over you right now. Bye-bye, Soul~!" The words made the boy feel slightly better, but he couldn't help but hiding in his room after he returned to the apartment, alone since Maka had angrily informed him that she was going out with the girls, and they were going to have dinner, so he should make his own. He played some mournful songs on his guitar, almost hearing Wes's voice, trying to teach him the value of string instruments…

…He wasn't sure how he fell asleep, but soon he was groaning at Maka's timid knock. She said, "Can I come in? I brought you some cake. It's chocolate, your favorite." It was apology cake, Soul knew, because prideful Maka wasn't used to apologies. By eating it, he signaled that he had forgiven her. "I'm sorry I yelled. I won't bug you on this one, k? I promise."

"Wait." Soul said before she left. He pointed to his photo, knowing that she hadn't seen his family before. "This is my brother Wes. He—he died yesterday."

"Oh, Soul! I'm so sorry! I didn't know—and then I yelled at you! I feel so horrible…" Maka glomped him suddenly, causing a flinch out of Soul before he patted her back. It wasn't like her to hug randomly, but he supposed this had never happened before, so who was he to know exactly what she would do? "So Saturday must be…" She put the pieces together.

"Yeah. His funeral. So afterschool Friday, we're gonna leave for Los Angeles—"

"You're taking me with you?" She was amazed. After all, she had exploded at him—again—and her apology had been cake. Not to mention that she didn't know he even had a brother. Of course, he had to have come from _somewhere, _unless he was some kind of scientific experiment…to rid herself of her theories, she hugged Soul harder.

Eventually Soul smiled. "Shinigami was right. I do need you."

"I've seen that face before, your brother's I mean." Maka said. "Not just because he looks like you. Somewhere else."

"Sometimes I watch his concerts when they show them on TV." Soul offered. "Usually at Christmas time. Of course, you not knowing much about music, you never listen."

"No, I don't. But I remember now. Sometimes I can see little flickers of him during resonance." Maka said. "But I always thought he was some sort of warped perception of you, and you wouldn't tell me because it was uncool."

"It _is_ kinda uncool isn't it…"

"Hey, I got an idea! Why don't you play some of his music while we pack? I know it's a little early to pack but sooner's better than later, right?"

"Well, OK, whatever." Soul searched through his massive album collection on his music player until he found Wes's favorite recording of himself—he had a lot of solos on this one. Soul blasted it on his speakers so Maka could hear it from her room. He decided that he wouldn't pack yet so he sat on his chair and listened for a while, also hearing the sound of clicking clothes hangers and zipping suitcases from Maka's room.

"Soul, is this OK for the funeral?" Maka popped into his room in a yellow dress, pink belt strapped around her waist. Her pigtails and combat boots remained, however. The boy just stared. Was she doing this on purpose? "You don't like it…"

"Maka, it's _yellow."_

"So?"

"We wear _black _to a funeral."

"No, idiot, you wear bright sun colors! It's supposed to mean a new day!"

Soul's voice rose, but only because Maka was arguing again, and this time he needed to win. "Have you ever BEEN to a funeral?"

"I have been to a funeral! It was here in Death City, a few years ago!"

"But we're not going to Death City, are we?" He glared. When he realized he'd upset her, Soul stomped into her closet and found a modest (no way was he letting her wear her miniskirt in front of his mother, of all people) black dress and cardigan. He threw them on the bed where she was already keeping the rest of the clothes she was packing (uniforms…figures.) In a drawer he found a hair clip that looked like the smiling sun.

"Soul?"

"Wear this. No combat boots." Soul ordered. "And before you say it, no, I'm not being girly picking out your outfit. I just want you to look cool."

…

"Mother! Over here!" Soul waved his hands as they exited the terminal. She had called ahead to say that she would be picking them up at the airport. When Maka heard the woman's voice over the phone, she noticed how much stronger she sounded when talking to her son. _Mrs. Evans must really want Soul to be here, _the meister concluded. _She _needs _him. _

Before Maka could register it, Soul was hugging a very petite, very beautiful woman, which was strange because he wasn't a hugger. The woman's black hair contrasted deeply with her son's. In fact, the two didn't look alike at all, except for the small, sort-of snobby nose that she knew to be her partner's.

"My little shark," the mother cooed, "you have grown so big!"

"Mom…" He warned.

"I'm sorry…it's not appropriate…I just missed you so much and I am so glad you are here, even if it's for…this."

They were quiet for a bit, remembering why this reunion was taking place, and unsure if they should be happy to see each other or not. "Mom, this is my meister, Maka. Maka, this is my mom." Soul introduced.

"I'm sorry we have to meet like this, but I have always wanted to meet Soul's family! He doesn't talk about you, but obviously he has parents, y'know?"

"Well, I know a lot about you! Soul sends home letters sometimes. He says you are very kind, though not in that many words. But I know how to read my baby shark!" She bragged. Soul was too busy balling his fists at the use of his childhood name to be embarrassed over hints of Maka's kindness.

"Let's just get out bags…" He groaned.

…

They drove to the Evans's house, which was an hour and a half's awkward silence away from the airport. It was 'much quieter than the city' there, and it was also the house where the two boys had spent their childhood in. The house looked so big when compared to Soul and Maka's apartment, but compared to the other houses in the neighborhood it was on the small end. Mrs. Evans said that it was a few minute's walk away from the beach, and that's why she loved it.

"I set the guest bedroom up for you, Maka, does that sound OK?" The mother said. "And Soul, your room is all tidied up. Fresh sheets and a little air freshener."

Soul grunted to let her know that he heard her. He remembered guiltily that on the morning he left for Shibusen, he had noticed that he had once again accidently tore up the sheets in his sleep and he hadn't let her know out of embarrassment. Which one was more uncool, wetting the bed or tearing it up with scythes? Either way he was glad he could control his blades now.

"Your house is so lovely!" Maka said as they pulled into the driveway. Soul went around to the trunk to get their suitcases. Maka's bag was much heavier of course; she had put a few books in it, which was an understatement. His only contained his suit which he would wear tomorrow, pajamas, and something to wear on the plane ride back home.

Maka complimented the house again when they entered, a great room combining a living space and a kitchen. Everything was light and airy, not like Soul at all, but then again he hadn't been here in a while. They were thinking that the house seemed so happy inside, but then they noticed the collection of photos and papers that littered the couch and coffee table.

"I'll warm up some lunch for you while you unpack."

Maka followed Soul, this time carrying her own suitcase. She was curious to see what Soul's room looked like. Luckily for her, his room was the first in the hallway of bedrooms. As Soul threw his suitcase on his bed, Maka peeked in; it was almost a copy of his room at their apartment, but cleaner. This room also contained a small, electronic keyboard and a shelf with motorcycle toys.

"The bathroom is in-between my room and the guest room." Soul said to Maka, who nodded. She instantly fell in love with the guest room when she entered and was glad she was staying in it. It was painted a pastel yellow that reminded her of flowers, especially since the pillows on the bed were a grassy green.

The boy left her to unpack her things while he decided whether or not to look in his brother's room. He chickened out, though, and returned to his own room, lovingly marked SHARK CAVE on a sign hanging from the doorknob. _Maka better not start calling me that…_He thought to himself.

"_You can't just call it 'Soul's room!' It has to be more original! Something cool!" Wes said during their little craft project._

"_Well, what are you calling your room?"_

"_Doctor Professor Wes's evil lair."_ _Wes wrote in black, adding dripping red blood falling from the letters. _

"_That doesn't even make sense." Soul said back. "I'm gonna name mine 'Soul's cave.'"_

"_You should name it Shark Cave!" Wes used their Mom's nickname for Soul._

"_Do sharks even live in caves?" Soul challenged, but wrote it down anyway. As an extra flourish, he added some zig-zag lines to represent shark teeth. One was black, and the line under it was red because the black marker ran out of ink. There was something weird about that, Soul thought, because his heart was racing and he wasn't sure why. _

"_You OK, Sharkie? Your face is all red." His brother worried. Soul knew he was worried because he had called him Sharkie, not by his name._

_That was the first time he woke up with ripped sheets. It wouldn't happen again in a long while, but Soul knew that when it did Wes would always be there to back him up when Mom asked what the heck was he doing and he answered that he wasn't sure. And later, when he found out he was transforming into a scythe in his sleep, Wes would be there to tell him it wasn't freaky at all._

"Hey, Soul!" Maka disturbed him from his reverie. "I noticed your sign. Is it 'cause your Mom calls you a shark?"

"Yup. But you'd better not call me that."

Maka pouted. He had so many nicknames for her, but she didn't have any for him. Granted, her names were mostly things like Bookworm and Pigtails, so maybe she shouldn't be jealous. So, she ignored his warning and said, "C'mon, Sharkie, it's lunch time." Soul faltered. She sounded worried. Was it a coincidence?

Soul's mother was splitting up some food onto three plates from the microwave when the pair returned. "Debra brought me some of her home-made tamales when I told her you were coming. You still like those, don't you?"

"'Course! Y'know, I've tried all the Mexican restaurants in Death City but they're not as good!" Soul nearly drooled, and ate his share (twice the amount on Maka's plate) quickly. Maka, meanwhile, found them a little too spicy for her taste, so Soul ate her extras as well. Food seemed to have made him feel better.

"People are bringing me more food than I can eat." Mrs. Evans said. "You can help me with that, can't you?"

"Sure thing, Mom."

"I'm so glad you're here."

"Bathroom." He said, tossing his plate in the dishwasher.

Feeling a little awkward sitting alone with Soul's mother, all Maka could think of to say was to introduce herself formally and talk about the person that they knew in common. Eventually it came to, "Y'know, Maka, when I was pregnant with Soul I was _convinced _he was going to be a girl. I was one step away from painting his room pink! Thank God Richard stopped me!"

"Really?"

"Hmm, she would have long hair like yours so I could braid it before school. Ah, but it wasn't meant to be. Besides, Soul is more of a man's name, isn't it? His soul was strong, so I thought it was a good name."

"His soul is very strong." Maka agreed. She'd seen it so many times she could draw it out of memory and explain every last detail of it. "And yeah, it's probably a better boy's name…"

"That's what Richard said too. That is why, I think, he never felt that his music was as good as his brother's. His soul is too strong for the life of a musician. He was very, very good, but that was not his talent, that was not what he was meant to be. He was meant to be a scythe, just like Wes was meant to play the violin."

"Please, tell me about Wes, I mean, if you're up for it."

"No, talking helps. Wes is—was—a very happy child. Of course he was my first so I might be biased somewhat…Wes was smart, and kind, and he really liked the idea of being a big brother. He protected and played with Soul, and Soul looks up to him for that. Even after Soul left for Shibusen they remained close and sent letters back and forth. Wes was easy to love. I'm sure you would have liked him too."

"Yeah."

"Kind of reminds me of you, a little. As long as you don't play cars with him, that is!" The mother laughed. "Hmm. That's a pretty hair clip, but it's pretty fancy to wear on the plane. Were you going to wear it tomorrow?"

"Yep! In Death City we wear bright colors to funerals, you see. I was going to wear my yellow dress, but Soul told me to wear black, so we compromised with this." She explained. "Where I'm from, it's not about mourning. It's a celebration that even if someone's gone, life goes on."

"A celebration, you say? I'll have to remember that." Mrs. Evans said absentmindedly.

Maka asked awkwardly, "Soul said he was going to the bathroom, but he's been gone for a long time. Do you know where he is?"

"I think I know."

Wes's evil lair felt like there had been pieces cut out of it. Part of this was literally; he had taken lots of his things to his apartment in the city, but it also felt like Wes was missing. Soul wasn't sure what to make of it. He could hear Maka and his mother chatting downstairs. At least he knew that by their presence, his mother had something to focus on rather than Wes.

Soul felt the same way, of course. Maka's happy (albeit a bit toned down) attitude was rubbing off on him. But still, he needed to face this room. Laying on the bed, he felt like he was taking Wes's place. The scythe felt uneasy about that, so he sat back up.

"Huh. That wasn't so bad." He shut the door with a soft _click _and hoped the two females in the house didn't notice how long he was gone.

"Come over here, Soul! Look at what your Mom's working on!" Maka called cheerily when she saw him walking back into the great room. She was kneeling next to the coffee table that was full of pictures and other papers. The mother, situated on the couch, was cutting things out with scissors. "Help us!"

"It's a scrapbook." Mrs. Evans said, looking embarrassed. "Or, it's supposed to be. I bought all this pretty paper and stickers but it doesn't look like the ones in the magazines…I guess I'm just not cut out for crafts."

"That's why we work together!" Maka sung. "Soul, you get to make the beach page. I already cut the pieces out for you."

"Why me?"

"_Hey Soul, let's build sand sculptures! I bet we could make some really cool ones like we saw on TV! I'm going to make a violin." Soul doubted that they could recreate the massive, elaborate structures, but he was always up for a challenge. The two boys raced to the ocean to collect some water, needing wet sand to build. They dumped it a little away from where their mother was sitting, under an umbrella with her friends. Their children, a little older than the Evans boys, were swimming._

"_I'm just going to build a castle."_

"_That's uncool, Soul, you should build something else!" Wes said, patting his sand to create a small rectangle to start with. Soul, meanwhile, had created a lumpy circle about the size of a cake._

"_Well, I'll make it cool!" The two boys began to carve their separate structures, Wes cutting away at his rectangle to mimic the shape of his preferred instrument and Soul poking at his castle to make it look more interesting. _

"_It still looks like a mess to me."_

"_Well, _I _think it looks cool." Soul said proudly. "Mom, come over here and see it!" _

"Soul, you can't just put them together mismatched! It looks like a mess!" Maka said while Soul arranged pictures on the piece of paper. The paper was colored so that it looked like sand.

"Well, _I _think it looks cool. What, you want me to do it symmetrically?" He chuckled. "Didn't realize you were turning into Kid. Are we going to have to do a pose before a battle?"

"_No, _I just want it to look nice. Geez." She scoffed, quickly explaining the joke to Mrs. Evans, who still didn't quite get it. "But you guys had the cutest pictures! Look at how cute you look in your little suits! There's hardly a picture where you aren't together!"

Soul glued down the pictures of him and Wes at the beach and added a few stickers.

"I wish I had a sibling." Maka continued. "I would want a younger sister!"

"Oh dear God, _two _Maka's?" Soul exclaimed. He could only imagine it—his own personal hell. One was enough for him.

The glaring match was broken by the doorbell, which Mrs. Evans rose to answer. It was probably another neighbor, Soul thought, by the conversation. The community on their street was very tight-knit; they all knew each other and was genuinely sad when they heard the news. Soul didn't remember which one was which, but the lady at the door smiled when she saw his face.

…

"I was thinking about how by just being here, your mother has gotten so much stronger. Even though we were in the other room, when she was talking to the neighbors she even smiled a few times." Maka said later that night.

"Hm-mm." He hummed in agreement. "She has always been a strong person. It's probably really hard to raise two boys on your own. Wes was strong too. He helped a lot, especially for me when I was transforming into a weapon."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I guess you wouldn't know, but it's weird to have a weapon just randomly pop up in your family…crap. Now I'm going to have to tell you, aren't I?"

"Yes!"

"You know how some kids when they get older wet the bed? Well, I was ripping the sheets at night. I got in trouble for that a lot. Then one night Wes put his night-vision camera in my room to see what was going on, because he believed that I wasn't doing anything wrong. He thought I was sleep-walking. So anyway, we found out I was transforming in my sleep and showed the tape to Mom. Mom went on the internet and figured it out!"

"Do you still have the tape?" Maka said excitedly. It was a great story, despite her feeling guilty of not thinking how a weapon or meister in a different sort of setting must feel. She, of course, had grown up in a household of meisters and weapons, so she knew exactly what was going on. Vaguely, she remembered how lost Soul and a group of other students looked during their first month of classes. Next year, she thought, she would set up a help group for them led by older students.

Soul logged in to his old desktop computer, which surprisingly still worked. He searched through his folders until clicking on the video. It was hard to see—even with the night vision filming at night wasn't the best of things—but she saw the flash of light paired with small blades coming out from his arms and fingers. Once, the light became unstable, and he transformed into his scythe form completely. That didn't last very long, and when it was over the young Soul rolled over on his side and slept peacefully.

"You were dreaming." Maka concluded.

"Must've been some really weird dreams, then."

"I bet!" The meister agreed. "We should tell Dr. Stein about this! You should copy the video and we can show him."

"No way." He immediately denied.

Maka suddenly became devious. "Do it or I'll show Black*Star your baby pictures."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Nah, I'm kidding. But Soul, I was thinking we could set up something for first year students who were like you to help them adjust. Will you help me?"

The scythe wasn't sure why he said yes, even though it was with a promise that it wouldn't take too much of his time. Still, he listened to Maka's speech of some ideas, what they should talk about and where they would meet. Soul just sat there and nodded his head when appropriate, an art that he had mastered after a year of living with a girl, especially this girl.

"So what do you think?"

"Can I go to sleep now?"

"You weren't listening at all, were you?"

"Of course I was. I'm tired now." Soul yawned, not looking forward to the long day ahead of him.

"Fine. Good night." She yawned after him and left.

"_Be strong for all of us, OK little bro?" Wes said as they were preparing to say their last goodbyes after they had dropped off Soul at school. They had completed paperwork and such in the foyer, and now had to give a farewell. _

"_Be safe!" The boy's mother was fearful of letting her son leave home. Of course she'd have to face this sooner or later when the boy went to college, but this was just too much! She hugged him until he couldn't breathe._

"_I will." Soul said, trying to act like an adult when really he was a tad nervous. "I've got to be strong if I want to be the next Deathscythe, y'know!"_

"_Make sure you pick a really cool meister, then! Preferably a really pretty girl, right Soul?" Wes nudged his brother in the ribs._

"_No way. I'm picking a boy so we can play video games together. Maybe basketball."_

"_Why not that blue-haired boy over there?" Mom suggested. "He looks nice."_

"_Maybe. I've got to find someone who understands me." Soul frowned at his mother's suggestion. He was yelling at the top of his lungs. Oh well; he'd say hello anyway. _

"_Well good luck, then!" Wes said sarcastically. "Write me letters when you get a chance, OK?"_

"_I will. And I'll visit for the holidays if I can."_

"_Good luck!" _

…

Although he was feeling much better when surrounded by his friend and mother, the quiet atmosphere at the funeral itself was unnerving for Soul, and he knew his mother was feeling it as well, but worse. So he held their hands for support, and when his mother held it tightly he had no choice to act like Kid for a moment and squeeze Maka's hand as well.

Meanwhile, Maka thought his hand was squeezing so hard she felt it might break off. It was hard to look strong for others—Maka knew. Right now Soul looked like her mother during the divorce, showing no weaknesses.

Everyone was so silent. Maka couldn't take it; it was just so awkward and foreign, and she kept telling herself that this was not her place, and these people mourned in a different way than she did. So, she held her breath and focused on that hand. It would help her not lash out.

Mrs. Evans held on to her hand for a much different reason; it was like her lifeline. The woman was so short and small it was almost comedic; it was almost as if she was a small girl taking her father's hand so they wouldn't get lost. Perhaps, Maka mused, that was what she was doing: staying together and not get lost. It almost irked her that someone else was acting dependent on Soul…_almost. _

The mother had just returned from addressing the crowd with a long-winded eulogy with her favorite memories of her son. It was now Soul's turn. He dropped Maka's and his mother's hands and strode purposely to the front of the room, looking briefly at the man inside the casket, saying to the body first, "Wes, I would like to let you know that I don't think you're a jerk. Thanks for always being there for me and always giving me something to work towards.

"I wrote you one more letter. I hope you can understand it…I wrote it in the car…but I'd like to read part of it to everybody. So… 'When I first got the news I was really shocked and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't believe it, so I acted chill, but my mind told me that I needed to mourn or whatever, because that was the right thing to do, but I didn't know how to do that. I tried acting normal, but it didn't work and everyone got worried, especially my best friend Maka. I didn't want to get her worried.

"I had to call Death…yeah, I know, that's weird…and he said to take my time and figure it out on my own. And it worked! Maka did some really goofy stuff, but she taught me that life moves on, so I shouldn't be sad. And I think when I wasn't looking she must've told Mom that too…and I think Mom probably gave her the speech that I was gonna be a girl too. I just wanted to give you a laugh if you get this. 'Cause laughing helps too, of course.'

"K. I'm done talking." Soul folded the note back up and put it on Wes's stomach. Morbidly he thought about actually putting it in his brother's hands, but he didn't want to touch the dead body. He'd seen dead bodies before, who wouldn't in their line of work, but it was different when he knew whose it was.

"That was beautiful, Soul." His mother reached on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. He kissed her back, mumbling his thanks.

"What, no kiss on the cheek for your 'goofy' best friend?" Maka joked.

"Nuh-uh. I'm gonna kiss youuu right…_here!" _The goofy meister's face turned pink as he pecked her lips, pulling away quickly to see her silly reaction.

"Soul, if I hadn't promised not to Maka-chop you, you would be SO dead right now!" Maka said violently. "Maybe it would have been better if you had turned out to be a girl."

"You're right; it would have made it funnier." Soul chuckled. Even his mom broke a smile.

"Ha-ha." She said, expressionless.

"But seriously, Maka, thanks. You helped a lot of people today. Notice how the room already feels happier? That's 'cause of you."

Maka smiled warmly.

…

_So wherever you are, Wes, in that great big concert hall in the sky, I hope you keep laughing and know that we'll be just fine. We'll always be thinking of you, all of the happy times and all the times that'll come after. And yes, I _know_, I love you too. _

_Stay cool,_

_Soul_

Author's note: Soul is such a drama queen. And if you've ever read a story by me, you know I can't write anything serious to save my life. But that's the point of the story, isn't it? We just have to keep laughing and life goes on. Besides, it's Soul Eater. Even the arc with the book of Eibon where they have to rescue Kid had some hilarious laughs! (Those of you who've read it know what I'm talking about!) It's just that I love writing family stories and since Soul's backstory is kind of vague I like to give my guesses. Some people think he's totally estranged; I don't think so. Like I said, I just think he's just dramatic when he says, "this is my escape" or "people who listen know that I'm not as good." (But he's a teenager, I mean COME ON.) Also, Maka is bipolar. I think that point has already been proven, don't you think? She probably gets it from Spirit.

Please tell me your thoughts. Is my plot / humor ratio acceptable? Do I focus too much on one character? The plot and humor question is probably the most important because I'm working on it.


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